


Boy Problems

by peppermint_tea



Series: Marco vs. the Forces of Gender [2]
Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Girl Marco Diaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 22:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermint_tea/pseuds/peppermint_tea
Summary: "I just—" Marco sighed. "I just thought that I would have some kind of magic cathartic moment where everything suddenly would be clear and it'd all make sense.""Yeah," Janna said dryly. "That sure would be nice. Like if you were forced into a dress and then you realized that you liked it, and the next thing you know you had become the multiverse's favorite rebel princess. Or maybe you go to a sleepover with a bunch of girls and—""Okay, okay," Marco said. She looked absolutely miserable. "But that's just it. Things happen, but then… they're over. You still have to keep going, to go home and go to sleep and wake up again the next morning only to realize that nothing's really changed, after all. How are you supposed to deal with that?"





	1. Doubts

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, this story is set immediately after "Princess Turdina." It's also a sequel to [Girls' Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086601), so I'd recommend reading that first if you haven't already. I wanted to expand on some things, and try to engage with some stuff that's a little hard to deal with. I can't promise that I am able to handle it all perfectly, but this story is kind of important to me, and I hope that comes across to you, dear reader.

Marco Diaz hadn't _always_ hated showers. 

At first, when she was tiny and first had to take a shower by herself, they were only scary in comparison to taking baths. But then again, at that age, she was more than a bit of a fraidy-cat and hated getting water in her eyes. (Weirdly, now, Marco didn't like _baths_ instead but if you'd seen _Glass Shark 3: The Final Cut_ you couldn't blame her because that post-credits scene with the invisible baby sharks swimming into the town's water supply…? _*shivers*_ )

But for a long time she enjoyed showers. She enjoyed being clean—or at least had a strong enough germophobic compulsion so that if she _didn't_ shower every night she felt all gross and couldn't sleep. Most of all, she enjoyed that moment where you rinsed the shampoo out, and got to run your fingers through your hair, and kept your eyes closed and it didn't seem like anything existed outside of the warmth of the water all around you.

But that had started to change a year or two ago… specifically around the same time _other_ things had begun to change. In a strange way, it was being alone that made it the worst. Not that she'd be very comfortable taking a shower with someone else, because, like, that also seemed totally weird. But being alone meant it was just Marco and her insecurities and her _body_ and anything would be better than that. Even the constant low-level freakout of having to be socially aware and acting normally around other people—at least then it'd mean she wouldn't be left alone with her thoughts.

And of course, it was in the shower that Marco noticed more hair where it wasn't supposed to be. 

It shouldn't have come as a surprise. She knew her Dad after all, and being able to cook great nachos wasn't the only thing in her DNA. And that led her on a panicked examination to make sure that there wasn't something _else_ she had missed, and a realization that the peach fuzz on her face was back. Everything was _wrong_ and…

And that chest hair. Rodrigo.

It was funny, in a bitter way. She could remember being so, so proud of it once, not even that long ago. Back then it seemed exciting—it meant that change was coming, and finally—finally!—something would click into place and she would suddenly change, and her body would actually make _sense_ so she could actually take a deep breath and feel like she belonged inside of it. 

That wasn't how things worked out though. She knew that now.

Now when she thought about her single chest hair, she couldn't help but relive her most recent return to St. Olga's. It had only been a few nights ago, but Marco knew how her brain worked, and felt certain she'd be stuck obsessing over the memories for a long time to come. It was all tainted now, even the good moments, the times when she forgot everything and just got to look up at her statue and see herself as the beautiful princess everyone else saw. That too was mixed up in a complicated tangle of guilt and deception and inauthenticity.

"Living by your true colors," she had said. "Loving who you are." And she was so close to saying it _all_ , to _explaining_. For once it seemed like maybe things would be okay, and maybe the other princesses would understand, and maybe Marco could even find the acceptance she so desperately craved. 

But then Miss Heinous had arrived and everything unraveled. 

Miss Heinous had made it clear what mattered. Marco's body proved she was male. And even if the princesses didn't _care_ , they didn't _disagree_ either. 

"Why does it matter if **he** 's a **boy**?" 

" **He** can be a princess if **he** wants to!" 

But that was the thing, wasn't it? Marco had never really cared about being a princess. Marco just wanted to be a girl. But she wasn't. She couldn't be.

That was when the creeping deadness in her chest had really set in, like her emotions had frozen over. She forced a smile on her face and made some comment to Star about the dress being uncomfortable, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She took selfies as "Marco Turdina, Boy Princess," and felt like her own consciousness had floated away somewhere, looking down on her body as it went through the motions of being social like it was an unfamiliar, alien thing.

Marco still didn't feel like she had figured out how to come all the way back. She wanted to cry, she really did. But she couldn't even do that. As she stood there in the shower, shampoo stinging her eyes, she just felt that numbness in her chest, like even her emotions had deserted her.

When she got out of the shower, she stood in front of the mirror for a long time, pulling her towel up high against her chest and staring into the fogged-up surface where she could just see a vaguely Marco-shaped blob.

That was really the only way she could stand mirrors. She could pretend the obscured, blurry person looking back was someone happy with themselves, who looked on the outside like they felt on the inside. It was kind of silly, but it was nice, too. Most nights, she would just say something encouraging to her blurred reflection and then dart out of the bathroom before the fog could fully dissipate. Something reasonable and moderate, like "You know what? You're okay, Marco Diaz."

But tonight, she had to shave. And so she wiped off the mirror, averting her eyes until she couldn't avoid it any longer.

When she finally saw herself clearly, all of the doubts and disgust and dread hit her like a wave. Everything was wrong. She hated it, so, so much. She could _see_ the shadow of hair across her lip now and it made her sick, multiplied by the memories of Star's magic and the beard incident, which _still_ was a recurring feature in her nightmares. 

But even aside from that, everything was just _off_. Her face was shaped wrong and her arms gangly and shoulders too wide and hips too narrow and she knew that everything was only going to get _worse_ soon. Even her hair—

Marco had been thinking about growing her hair out for a while now. She figured that was a way to feel a little in control, a little more secretly like herself, even if she also had no idea how to respond to curious remarks by Star or her mother. Even now, it was ever-so-slightly longer than usual, brushing down across her ears or at the back of her neck in a strangely nice way, like a quiet reminder that it was okay to be who she was.

But then when she looked in the mirror she knew it wasn't anywhere near the cute style that she secretly imagined it one day being. She just saw a stupid, ugly boy who needed a haircut soon. And it wasn't like any haircut would help either. She hated those too, because it was another reason she had to look at herself afterwards and still see the body she felt stuck inside.

It made her stomach tie itself up in knots. It made her want to just do something drastic. Like— like shave her hair off entirely, not because it would help, but just because nothing she could do would _ever_ actually work and the despair made her feel like it would be better to just wreck everything than have to keep suffering.

Instead, she picked up the razor, hand shaking slightly. She focused on the things that mattered, ignoring the vice crushing her heart. She needed to shave her face and chest.

"You're okay, Marco Diaz," she whispered, so soft that she could barely hear it herself.

She just wished she could believe herself.


	2. Certainty

_What about magic?_

It started as an idle thought, flitting across Marco's mind at breakfast when Star offhandedly zapped her pancakes to make them dance. Of course, that also involved splattering syrup everywhere. As Marco headed off to perform her squirely duties of napkin procurement, the question stuck with her, buzzing around in her head.

Magic. What about magic? Magic does lots of things that seem totally impossible. That's like the definition of magic. It's magic.

Can magic make you a girl?

…Why had she not thought about this months ago?

By the afternoon, the thoughts had grown to a constant drumbeat, reverberating in time with Marco's thudding heartbeat. Marco _tried_ to ignore it, to pay attention to Star as she rambled on about monster politics or complaints about princess homework or the latest gossip from Ponyhead. But as she found herself nodding and mumbling 'mm-hmms,' her thoughts spiraled out of control.

Star could do magic. All kinds of magic. Could Star turn her into a girl, for real?

But then Star already used magic for the princess spell, and that hadn't changed Marco's body. Just given her a dress. Even the hair was a wig. Star wasn't exactly very… discerning with her magic usage, so if she _could_ transform someone completely, wouldn't she have accidentally done that to begin with?

And importantly, how could Marco even _ask_ without revealing something she had been avoiding for a long time? It's not like she hadn't thought about coming out to Star before, but… Star was the one who had been most worried about Marco pretending to be a princess. She _definitely_ wasn't cool with Marco trying to be something she was not. Wasn't wanting to be a girl asking way too much? 

Everyone had been okay with Marco Diaz, boy princess. Everyone except Marco. Was it wrong to not be satisfied with that? Was she just going to screw everything up again? Things were already still kind of weird between them. And Star had so many problems of her own what with trying to reconcile the monsters and the humans and learning to be a responsible princess. Could Marco really burden Star with her own problems?

And more than anything else: how could she _possibly_ understand?

"Hello? Mewni to Marco Diaz, space cadet!"

Marco realized that Star was waving a hand in front of her face and shook her head to try and clear it. "Yeah? I'm listening!"

"Uh-huuuuuh. Then what was I saying?"

"It was about…" Marco sighed. "Yeah, I got nothing. Sorry."

Star grinned. "It's okay. It's kind of fun being the responsible one for once! Anyways, it's about my book."

"Your spellbook?" Marco's eyes grew wide. "I thought that burned up. Or do you mean your new one?" She swallowed. "How, uh, complete is that, by the way?"

"No, silly!" Star trilled. "My _Fiesta de la Noche_ fanfiction novel."

"…Oh."

Marco had definitely read the first five pages of that, and Star was _not_ the most coherent writer. Though she was certainly prolific, as the number of chapters was currently somewhere in the hundreds.

"As I was saying," Star continued. "I was thinking about how bored that poor Eclipsa must be all locked up in that tower, and I bet she would loooove to have something to read. What do you think?"

"Uhhh…" Marco frowned. "I'm not really sure you should be spending that much time with Eclipsa. We don't really know if we can trust her, remember?"

"What's she gonna do? Corrupt me with her dark magic?" Star wiggled her fingers. "Oooooh. Besides, I've got lessons this afternoon, which is why I was asking if you'd take it over to her. C'mon Marco, she's actually pretty nice! Maybe if you got to know her and gave her half a chance, you'd like her."

All Marco had hear was 'magic.' Once again, it was suddenly echoing in her head.

And that's when she got a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea.

She couldn't talk to Star, even if she was trying to be subtle. Star'd figure it out. But… Star wasn't the only one who knew things about magic.

"Sure," Marco said slowly. "I'll bring it to her."

And that's how Marco ended up standing outside Eclipsa's door several hours later. True to her word, Star was busy with lessons from the Royal Toastmaster—though Marco wasn't exactly sure if that meant public speaking or the etiquette of which side to butter, because Mewni was _weird_ sometimes.

Marco stood outside that door for a long time. In her head, a little Marco Diaz voice explained all the ways this could go wrong. But also, little Janna and Ponyhead voices chanted "Do it! Do it!" in unison. Marco voice had better arguments, but Janna and Ponyhead were louder.

So Marco steeled herself and knocked. 

And a voice lightly called out, "Come in!"

And so she did.

"Squire Diaz! What a pleasant surprise."

Eclipsa was standing by the window, watering flowers in a planter. She was wearing a big straw hat with a sunflower on it. She looked completely and utterly nonthreatening.

Marco was totally freaked out.

"Shouldn't you be, uh…" Marco's eyes flitted across the room, unable to look at her directly. "Chained up or something?"

"Oh, right." Eclipsa set her watering can down and walked over to a heavy looking ball and chain in the corner. She pointed one foot downward and easily slipped the anklet on. "Is that better?"

"Uh."

"Oh, wherever are my manners? Would you like some tea?" Eclipsa stepped out of the chains once again, sweeping across the room to rummage through a cabinet and come up with a kettle.

Marco swallowed. "Sure."

"How do you feel about jasmine? I have a lovely blend here that I do enjoy."

Marco made a noncommittal noise and sat down at the room's small table. It took Eclipsa a few minutes to make the tea, but Marco didn't even notice. She was so stuck in her head, trying to figure out what to say and how, that it came as a shock when Eclipsa had settled down in the seat opposite her, placing two cups of hot tea in front of them. Marco forced herself to breathe slowly, and tried not to stare at Eclipsa's hands.

"So this is certainly unexpected," Eclipsa said. She took a sip of tea. "Though not unappreciated. I rarely get visitors, aside from Star."

"Yeah. That's sort of why I'm here." Marco pulled out Star's fanfic, a messy stack of pages stapled together on one end. "She asked me to give you this, in case you were bored and looking for something to read." 

"Oh?" Eclipsa's eyebrows raised and smile faded as she flipped through a few pages. "Oh…"

Marco chuckled nervously. "Right. To be honest, if you just tell her you never saw the twist coming, she'll ramble for a few minutes and you can nod appreciatively."

"What twist?"

"There's enough that if you're vague, it doesn't really matter."

"I see." Eclipsa carefully set the fanfic down, moving it to the very edge of the table. "How very… _thoughtful_ of her."

"Yeah," Marco said. She picked up the teacup and took a tentative sip. The flavor was kind of floral, and even though the tea was too hot still, it was nice. She looked up at Eclipsa. She seemed nice, too. Which worried Marco more than it reassured her, but she didn't exactly have many options here.

"There's something else," Marco said.

Eclipsa's expression didn't change. She had an enigmatic smile as she nodded for her to go on.

Marco took a deep breath and let it out again. "I wanted to ask you some questions about magic."

"Surely Star knows that she can ask me directly if—"

"No," Marco said. "This isn't from her. In fact, it's probably best if this stays between us."

There was a clink as Eclipsa set her teacup back down. "Of course," she said. "Though you must be aware of the conditions of my confinement. Moon has made it abundantly clear that she finds my particular methods to be… well, suspect, to say the least."

"Yeah, I understand."

"Do you?" Eclipsa tapped one finger against her chin. "Do you understand the consequences if word gets out that I'm… ah, 'corrupting the youth,' as they say? I'd rather prefer not to be crystallized once again."

"That doesn't stop you from talking to Star."

"Yes, but Star is a free spirit who makes her own decisions. I understand that, just as I understand that she would never attribute her problems to me." Eclipsa studied Marco carefully. "I am afraid that I have not come to a solid conclusion about you yet, Squire Diaz." 

Marco nodded slowly. "Okay, how about this? Let's make an agreement that will benefit both of us. I'll promise that nothing we say here will leave this room, but in return, you'll do the same."

"Oh, how formal!" Eclipsa clapped her hands together lightly. "Just like negotiating the terms of a contract. It's been ages, and I do so love those!" She paused, considering. "I think I can agree to that. But there's one more thing."

"Oh?"

"We should be friends, and friends help one another, yes?"

Marco's mind raced. "And you're helping me now, which means… what do you want?"

"Oh, there's nothing pressing right now. But perhaps I will need a favor eventually." Eclipsa's smile hadn't changed. "I'll simply ask that you come to my aid at some point in the future, as it becomes necessary."

Marco froze in place, thinking. She knew she shouldn't trust Eclipsa, no matter how nice she seemed. This was way too dangerous, particularly in agreeing to something without even knowing what it would eventually be. It was crazy. And what exactly was it all for? Just to see if there was some magic way to become a girl?

Was this really _that_ important to her?

"Agreed," Marco said, and reached across the table to shake Eclipsa's hand. She was expecting it to be icy cold, where the dark magic had stained her skin a deep purple. Instead, her hand felt unnervingly normal.

Eclipsa sat back in her chair, picking up her cup to take another sip of tea. "Well then," she said. "Ask away."

"Right." Marco took a deep breath. She had a plan for this, a few questions to ease into things, maybe even keep it ambiguous as to why she was asking. "To start, can anyone do magic? Is it specifically a princess thing? Do you need a wand, like Star?"

"No. Well… strictly speaking, in the same way that you don't _have_ to have a hammer and chisel to create a marble sculpture. But I'm afraid you will find it to be a difficult process with your bare hands."

"I've seen Hekapoo do some pretty magicky stuff sometimes."

"That's somewhat of a exceptional case. She, like Glossy, _are_ magic, at least how I understand it. It's a little complicated, but suffice it to say they operate in different ways than the rest of us."

"Okay, but still… anyone can do magic?" Marco bit her lip. "Let's just say there's a princess, and she gets her hands on a wand…"

One of Eclipsa's eyebrows raised. "Such as the family heirloom of the Mewni Royal Family, passed down from one heir to the next?"

"Sure." Marco met her eyes. "Hypothetically."

"Very well. Then, yes, in this entirely hypothetical situation, you could cast any number of spells."

"What are the limitations? Star normally does a lot of… well, battle summoning. But she's done some stuff that seemed more transmutation-y too. Like with the monster arm incident, or that time she turned Ferguson into a possum. Those were kind of accidental though. For something more stable, are there any kind of reagents or like—"

Eclipsa raised a hand to cut Marco off. "I think you're misunderstanding a lot of things."

"I am?"

"Well, first of all, I don't even know how your magic would work."

Marco paused, blinking. "Wait, what?"

"You really don't know the first thing about all this, do you?" Eclipsa said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Marco crossed her arms. "No, which is why I'm talking to you, remember?"

"Of course. The short version is that magic is not like… not like baking, for instance. You cannot simply follow a recipe and expect it to come out the way you want it. Magic is _alive_. It has a personality, it has feelings, and a lot of the time, it has an _attitude_. You can't just expect to learn the rules and then be able to do whatever you want, not when the rules are different for each person."

"I don't understand. Star learned plenty of spells. She even read your chapter in the spellbook."

"Oh my," Eclipsa raised a hand to her lips. "She did?"

"Yeeeah. I did, too, though I don't really remember any specifics, weirdly enough." Marco frowned. "Just that I could taste blood in my mouth for like a week."

"Regardless!" Eclipsa said brightly. "While it is true that the Butterfly family passes down certain elements of their magic, each princess must also find her own style. Other people's spells never work quite as well."

"I guess that makes some sense. Star certainly does things her own way. I couldn't imagine her mother shooting a Narwhal Blast."

"Of course not. Moon's magic relies on a certain kind of elegance. Just as Star's magic exemplifies whimsy." Eclipsa paused to glance down at her hands. "And my magic requires sacrifice."

"That hardly seems fair."

"You would be surprised," Eclipsa said. "I told you that magic has an attitude, right? The more limitations you face, and the more freedom you allow the magic itself, the more power you are able to wield. Thus Star's magical abilities far surpass those of her mother."

"Really?" Marco said. "Why?"

"Whimsy is a powerful force. I'm sure you've seen that firsthand."

Marco paused, thinking. "Yes. Star can do all kinds of things that seem impossible. She doesn't even think before trying some weird new spell, and like half the time it works."

"Except…" Eclipsa said, trailing off for Marco to finish.

Marco nodded. "Except when she really really wants something to happen. Then it usually goes horribly wrong. If it's an afterthought or doesn't really matter, she can just zap up whatever she needs, but if she's trying to accomplish something important, or—" she shuddered "—if she's trying to help me out… Well, then it makes a big mess."

"Precisely," Eclipsa said, smiling. "You catch on quickly."

"So even if I asked her…" Marco muttered.

"It's not just her magic," Eclipsa said, looking momentarily solemn. "Squire Diaz, be warned: I do not think you will be able to find the spell you desire."

Marco looked up at her, sharply. "W-why do you say that? Why do you assume that… uh…"

"Surely, you came to me for a reason. But the specifics are beside the point. The one thing magic refuses to grant is always the single thing that one desires the most."

"What?" Marco said. "How does that even work?"

Eclipsa shrugged. "Magic."

"How would it… know?"

"Again, magic."

"So… say that there is a thing I wanted. If it was less important to me, then it wouldn't be a big deal? I could just— zap?"

"Perhaps. But you cannot change how much you care about it, can you?"

Marco was silent for a moment, blinking at her. 

"That— That sucks!"

Eclipsa took a sip of tea. "Yes, it does."

Marco shook her head. "Okay, but… What's important to me isn't important to you, right? So, you could help me. And you're definitely good at magic, right? If it takes sacrifice, that's fine, I can handle it."

Eclipsa was silent. When Marco glanced up at Eclipsa's face she shivered. Eclipsa's expression hadn't changed, but an icy distance hung in the air between them.

"I don't think that you know what you're asking," Eclipsa said quietly.

Marco swallowed. And then she carefully moved her cup and saucer aside, and placed both palms on the table leaning forward. "Try me," she said, her eyes refusing to leave Eclipsa's.

For a long moment, they stared at one another.

And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the tension vanished. Eclipsa broke out into her normal mysterious smile. "You are certainly full of surprises, Squire Diaz!" she said lightly. "I actually do believe you. You really would be willing to sacrifice to achieve your goal, which means it must be very important to you, indeed. But even so, I fear my magic still would be of no help."

"Why?"

Eclipsa glanced towards the window, her eyes growing distant for a moment. "I, too, was willing to sacrifice everything. And I thought for a time that I had found a way to force magic to give me what I wanted. But it didn't turn out that way, after all. I could not put you through the same heartache, particularly when I know all too well that such efforts are ultimately doomed."

"So," Marco finally said, her mouth feeling dry. "You can't…"

"No."

"And I can't…"

"No. And Star cannot, either."

Marco stared at the table. "I see."

"I'm terribly sorry," Eclipsa said. "I like you, Squire Diaz. You remind me of myself when I was younger. Since it doesn't seem that I've been much help, let us just forget about agreements and favors and call it even."

It figured, that Marco would be friends with a magical alien princess, and even be talking to some kind of legendary possibly-evil-but-weirdly-pretty-nice queen, and neither one of them could actually help with her problems. All magic could do was get her hopes up, taunt her with possibilities that couldn't happen. 

Marco wondered even if she ever did try and figure out magic, if it'd be powered by passive-aggressive annoyingness. That definitely seemed to be Glossaryck's standard setting, at least before the whole 'Globgor' business. In fact, from the very first time they had met…

Suddenly she looked up, an idea striking her. "Wait," Marco said. "Maybe— Maybe there is a way you can help me still."

"Of course. If it is within my power, I would be delighted to."

"Right. The thing is… certainty. Certainty is the thing." Marco shook her head at the jumble of words, but pressed on, growing more confident and hopeful as she went. "I thought I had figured things out but I keep having doubts, and then I end up back at square one, you know?"

Eclipsa looked at her blankly.

"But here's the thing. I keep writing it off as jokes, just poking fun at me, but it's happened more than once. When I met Glossaryck, right? He called me 'milady.' And that weird joy-sucker guy the one time, too. So, like… maybe people with magic know something that I don't. Even if magic can't change me, maybe it can tell me who I am, right? That's— that's a big deal just in itself."

"Slow down. What are you asking?"

"I need to know for sure." Marco looked up at her. "Can you tell me?"

Eclipsa looked entirely lost. It took Marco a minute to gather up the courage.

"Am I a girl?"

Eclipsa's eyes immediately widened. "Oh. Oh _dear_."

Marco felt her face flush, but she refused to let it get to her. "Please. I need to know."

Eclipsa was silent. She cocked her head to the side as she peered at Marco for a long moment. Then she leaned forward. 

Marco didn't flinch as Eclipsa's hands reached out to cradle her face. Eclipsa's eyes fluttered closed, and her expression remained utterly unreadable, as her thumb brushed lightly against Marco's cheek.

There was no glow, no mystic humming or arcane chanting. Still, Marco felt goosebumps.

When Eclipsa pulled back, her face was carefully neutral. She hesitated, studying Marco's expression. Marco felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest.

"No," Eclipsa said.

Marco suddenly felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. "W-what?" she choked out.

"No, you are not."

"Wait, you don't understand." It was like a switch had flipped, and now Marco was breathing way too much, and the room seemed like it was off-kilter. "I don't mean like biologically or— or—"

"I know," Eclipsa said quietly. She was still staring at Marco, studying her intently.

Marco was shaking, she realized that now. The thoughts were piling together in her head, all getting in the way of one another so that they just blocked anything at all from being comprehensible. But all of it was tinged with sadness. No—not sadness so much as the bleak nothingness of _despair_.

Marco _still_ couldn't cry. There was a hint of tears welling up in her eyes, but it was as if a wall stood in the way. The deadness in her chest felt like it was creeping further and further outwards, consuming herself in the emptiness. Marco felt herself detaching, floating away.

"Maybe I can still help," Eclipsa said.

Underneath the despair, Marco could feel the bitter taste of anger, and she clung to it, desperate to feel _something_. "Haven't you done enough?" she spat out.

"What if… What if I were to use magic. Not to change your body. But to change your mind?"

Marco swallowed. "What?"

"What if I were to cast a spell that made you want to be a man?" Eclipsa's face was deathly serious. "Would that solve your problem? Would you want that?"

It felt like Marco's body was tearing itself apart. Her stomach was twisted in knots, and her head was spinning and her heart was pounding in her ears. This was bad, worse than any previous time it had ever happened. Eclipsa's words felt like they were coming from a long distance away.

Then she felt someone grasp her hand. She looked down to see Eclipsa's purple-stained hands covering one of her own, keeping it from shaking.

"Marco," Eclipsa said, her face pale with worry. "Are you— are you okay?"

Marco forced herself to breathe more slowly. Brought herself back into the moment. She sat in silence for a long moment, and Eclipsa kept holding her hand. Marco took the time to find a center, and then to consider Eclipsa's words. To really, deeply think through them.

Finally, she spoke.

"I don't want that," she said. In a way, it was strange, just how easy of a decision it had been to make. She really, actually didn't. She couldn't just leave a part of herself behind. She had practically tried doing that herself, already, and if magic was as Eclipsa described… well, it would make things worse rather than better. Better to face things on her own. To move forward how _she_ wanted to move forward.

Eclipsa abruptly let out a chuckle, cause Marco to look at her sharply. "Certainty, huh?" Eclipsa murmured.

It took Marco a moment to understand.

Then she yanked her hand back, almost falling out of her chair. "You— You were _lying_??"

"It's been a long time since magic lessons, dear. And I never did pay much attention when Glossy talked about souls and spirits and whatnot." Eclipsa shrugged. "I don't know what you even expected. We are all just people, aren't we? What does it even mean to be a boy or a girl or something in between? Don't you have to decide that for yourself?"

"But you—" Marco shot her a glare that could have melted steel. " _Why would you say that, then_?"

Eclipsa smiled. "You wanted to know, didn't you? It wouldn't be much help to just say I didn't know."

"You _are_ evil," Marco said, wonderingly.

Eclipsa paused to take a sip of tea. "I prefer to think that I'm more interested in getting things done than being _nice_."

Marco let out a breath of disgust. "But still… I—" She shook her head. "Just never do something like that to me again, okay?"

Eclipsa didn't respond. She just kept smiling.

"And… thank you."

"Did you find the certainty you needed?" Eclipsa asked.

"Yes," Marco said. She paused. "No? It doesn't matter, I think. There's never going to be an easy answer, is there? But I guess it is pretty clear what answer I _want_. Even if magic can't help with that."

Eclipsa nodded. "Though, if you do ever decide to pursue training in the mystic arts, do let me know and I would be happy to give you a few pointers. I think you may be more suited to it than you might expect."

"Uh, thanks," Marco said, blinking. "I'm not sure that's a good idea though."

"Perhaps you are right," Eclipsa said. "But I do want you to know: in my utterly-non-magical and inexpert judgment… I think you are a delightful young lady with a bright future ahead of you."

Marco felt her face grow warm. "Thanks," she muttered.

Eclipsa glanced down at the teacups, looking momentarily wistful. "And if you would like to come by again, sometime, my schedule is, as they say, quite open. I would love to talk more, even on more mundane subjects."

Marco paused, considering it.

"You know what? I'd like that too."


	3. Resolve

"Margo," Janna said. "No, wait, Margot with a T. It's like French or something."

Marco put the skirt back on the rack and crossed her arms, frowning. "Do I look French to you?"

Janna shrugged. Her eyes suddenly lit up and she pulled a hanger off the rack she was next to, revealing a yellow sundress. "How about this?"

Marco bit her lip, thinking. "Isn't that a little too… uh…" She trailed off, her eyes darting back and forth as she checked to see if anyone in the store was looking at them weird.

It was kind of a big deal to be shopping for clothes—at least _girl_ clothes. Which is why Marco had used her dimensional scissors and dragged Janna to a Target in some tiny unremarkable town in the Midwest, where there was absolutely no possible way that anyone would ever know them. And even still, she still couldn't quite get over the minor, constant feelings of freaking-out. 

But she had to tell herself that it didn't look that weird. It probably just looked like a guy helping his girlfriend pick out clothes, right? Having there Janna helped tremendously.

"Marzipan."

Even if Janna could also sometimes be the _worst_. Marco groaned.

"Margarine."

To be fair, the name stuff was kind of Marco's fault, dating back to an earlier unwise comment when she revealed that she hadn't figured out a name that she really liked yet. Janna said that she was too picky. And then from that point it was off to the races as Janna kept it up like some kind of game to try and pick out the perfect name when she and Marco were alone. 

"Marcie?"

Janna was horrible at this game.

"Ugh, why do you think I want something that sounds like Marco?" Marco said. "Maybe I want something entirely different, like a fresh start."

Janna tilted her head sideways, looking at her. She draped the sundress over her arm, and then added another one in light blue.

"Velociraptor," she said, grinning.

"What?!"

"'Cause you're such a clever girl."

"I hate you."

" _Do_ you want something really different?"

Marco let out a sigh and looked through a few more skirts. "I don't know." She pulled one out and put it back again. By the time she turned around again, Janna had added two tops and a plain black skirt to her pile.

"Marisol," she said, as Marco frowned at her.

"That's the name of Miss Skullnick's hamster."

"Yeah? It's cute, you're cute. Why not?"

"Ugh," Marco groaned. Her lips pursed. "It is kinda cute, though, yeah." 

When Janna's whole face lit up, Marco hastily waved her hands. "I'm not going to have the same name as a hamster. Whoa there!"

Janna paused, looking at her questioningly.

She pointed at the article of clothing Janna had just picked up. "No. Skinny. Jeans."

Janna shrugged. "What about regular jeans?"

Marco paused, pursing her lips. "But that's not like… uh. Not particularly girly?"

"Hey," Janna said, reaching out to rest one hand on Marco's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, remember? It's okay to just be you."

"Yeah, but… I just feel like I wouldn't be trying enough. I'd be doing things wrong."

"You can't be a girl _wrong_." Janna waved one hand to indicate herself. "Look at me, right? Do I dress that girly? If you wanna wear hoodies and jeans every day for the rest of your life, that doesn't make you any less of a girl."

Marco let out a breath, and nodded. "Though," she said shyly, "I do think I'd like some clothes that were a little more feminine."

Janna grinned. "We can do that!" In a flash, she grabbed some jeans and another skirt and a sweater.

"Whoa, wait a minute," Marco said, eyeing the quickly growing pile of clothing Janna was carrying. "I don't know about all this. That's… that's a lot, and I don't know if all that is really my style."

"Which is why we're gonna try it on!"

" _What_?" Marco said. "I was just gonna buy a couple of things! I—"

Janna was walking away and Marco had to hurry to catch up. 

Just as she did, and before Marco could get a word in edgewise, Janna turned, grinning. "Montreal."

"What, like the _city_?" Marco said, horrified.

"I once knew a girl named Dallas."

"No," Marco said. " _Emphatically_ no. And hey, I'm not going to—"

Janna closed the door. Marco suddenly realized she had followed Janna all the way into a dressing room. She blinked. "Did anyone see us come in here?"

"Yeah, I winked real big at the attendant, so she'll probably just assume we're having sex and leave us alone." Janna saw the expression of unadulterated terror on Marco's face and rolled her eyes. "I'm _kidding_ , no one saw us." She sat the pile of clothes down, and started looking through it.

"I can't just…" Marco trailed off. Her eyes widened. "I can, can't I? This is okay, isn't it?"

"Yup!" Janna said. She held up the two dresses she had first picked out. "Yellow or blue?"

"Y-yellow," Marco muttered, taking it. She paused, looking at the dress, then up at Janna. "Uh…"

"It's just us girls, isn't it?" Janna said, grinning. But Marco raised an eyebrow, and Janna suddenly got a little red in the face and turned towards the wall. "Just tell me when you're ready."

It didn't take Marco that long, but she did need Janna's help in the end to zip up the back.

Marco took a deep breath and turned towards the mirror, her heart thumping in her chest.

And a boy in an ill-fitting dress was staring back. It was all _wrong_. The dress made her shoulders stand out, and the color was really way too bright, and her hair was so short that it just didn't _work_ and… Marco had to look away, and slumped to sit down on the bench, burying her face in her hands.

She felt Janna sit down next to her, putting an arm across her shoulders.

"It's not that bad," she said.

"No," Marco insisted. "It is."

"We've got a lot more outfits to try. We'll find something."

"But what if we don't?" Marco sighed. "What if there's nothing that's right? What if I'm wrong about all of this?"

"Marco. Don't."

"I just—" Marco sighed. "I just thought that I would have some kind of magic cathartic moment where everything suddenly would be clear and it'd all make sense."

"Yeah," Janna said dryly. "That sure would be nice. Like if you were forced into a dress and then you realized that you liked it, and the next thing you know you had become the multiverse's favorite rebel princess. Or maybe you go to a sleepover with a bunch of girls and—"

"Okay, okay," Marco said. She looked absolutely miserable. "But that's just it. Things happen, but then… they're over. You still have to keep going, to go home and go to sleep and wake up again the next morning only to realize that nothing's really changed, after all. How are you supposed to deal with that?"

Janna waited, watching as Marco worked out her thoughts.

"I wake up every day and it's like I'm stuck in the same place I've always been. Sometimes it's fine, sometimes I push through and it's a good day and I can just exist. I've been doing what we talked about, thinking of myself as 'she' and 'her' and when it's good that's wonderful. But on a bad day, one where I can't escape the thoughts... It just feels I'm deluding myself." She winced. "I can't help but feel like I'm never actually going to be the person— the girl… that I— I—" 

"Oh, Marco," Janna breathed out.

"The girl that I _wish_ I was," she said, and groaned. "I wish I was a girl more than anything in the whole world, but I definitely don't have the confidence to say that I _am_ one. I'm just faking it."

"Fake it 'til ya make it," Janna said.

Marco shot her a glance that was equal parts miserable and unimpressed.

"No, really. I get that you overthink it and doubt everything. Duh, you're you." She reached over to ruffle Marco's hair. "But I think you're a perfectly good girl."

"If I was a girl, like…" Marco raised a hand to her chest, "shouldn't I know that, somewhere here, on the inside, as just a part of me? Shouldn't I just _know_?"

Janna rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. And that's why you freak out about being thought of as a boy, and _literally just said_ that you wanted to be a girl more than anything else in the world. That sounds like knowing to me."

"But aren't _wanting_ and _being_ different?"

"Not if you don't want them to be?" 

Marco crossed her arms. "But like… You know that you're a girl, right? If you were in a boy's body it'd be weird and not right."

"Sure. But…" Janna shook her head. "Say there's indeed some kind of feeling on the inside that you can identify and be like boom, there, if you feel that way you know you either are or aren't female. What would that feel like?"

"I have no idea."

"Then how do you know it's not just _all of the feelings you are constantly obsessing over_?"

Marco's hands covered her face. "I don't knoooow." Her eyes peeked out at Janna again. "But it's not just that. It's not just all in my head because it's my _body_ too. My body is a boy's and it's getting worse and worse and the more I get freaked out and worked up the more I'm also struck with like… why do _I_ even have the right to be make a big deal about it? I mean, come on, _everyone_ hates the way they look and feel."

"Wait, what?"

Marco looked up at her. "Yeah, you know, like hearing a recording of your voice. It's really weird and alien to see from the outside." 

"Your body?" Janna said. "When you look at yourself?" 

"Yeah." Marco was hugging her arms close to herself now, so tight that her knuckles were white. "Like it makes you kinda sick to your stomach."

"All the time?"

Marco just stared back at her.

"That's, uh, not normal, chica."

Marco felt her face flush. "Really?"

"Yep. I mean, sometimes you don't feel great, sure," Janna said. "Everyone has moments where you're self-conscious or whatever, and you wish you could look different in some ways, absolutely. But you should feel okay with who you are. There's nothing wrong with your body." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, particularly you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Janna looked at Marco sidelong. "C'mon. You're…" She waved a spare hanger around, as if that illustrated her point.

"If you say handsome, I'm going to go to another dimension and leave you in this stupid store."

"No!" Janna said. "You're cute! You can rock that princess dress, you know it."

"I don't feel cute." Marco let out another long sigh. "And besides, I won't look this way for much longer."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm only going to look more and more like a dude. It's just a matter of time, right?"

"It doesn't have to be that way." Janna said. "I mean, think of it this way: you're figuring out this stuff pretty early, all things considered. I know it's scary, but maybe that's a reason to actually talk with someone? And I mean, if you are on puberty blockers, that gives you more time to figure out who you are before a more permanent decision like HRT."

"Wait…" Marco stared up at her. "How do you even know about things like that?"

"I googled it, duh. After you told me at the sleepover, I was curious and kind of confused so I looked at some stuff online." Janna smirked. "Like you haven't already, too."

Marco kept staring back, eyes owlishly wide.

"Wait." Janna's eyebrows shot up. "Please tell me you have. There's whole communities of people who have gone through some of the things you're going through. Don't tell me you're so freaked out you're avoiding even _thinking_ about it."

Marco shook her head. "No, I mean. I— I don't know. I've thought about it, and done some research, yeah. I just didn't think, uh, that you'd necessarily be okay with that."

"Are you kidding?" Janna said. "Come on, you know I'm here for you."

"Well…" Marco said. "And to be fair, I was gonna see if magic would work first."

Janna looked thoughtful. "That's actually a pretty good idea. Does it?"

"Nope."

"Dang."

Marco fiddled with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. "But, uh. Hormone stuff. I would probably have to tell my parents, huh?"

"Yeah," Janna said. She sighed. "Yeah."

"…Okay."

Janna looked up at Marco, seeing her nod to herself. "Huh?"

"Okay," Marco said again. "Then… let's do that. Can you— Can you help me out a bit with putting together some information? You know, just to be prepared?"

"Absolutely!" Janna said, giving Marco a big hug. She laughed. "I'm surprised though? You seem so freaked out about this sometimes that I didn't think you would ever actually want to tell anyone else."

"Yeah, well…" Marco let out a sigh. "I know I worry about things all the time, and get stuck in my own head, and end up too paralyzed to act. And maybe, yeah, I'm going to wake up tomorrow and it'll still be there. Maybe it'll always be there, at least a little bit in the back of my head. But if that's going to be my life, why _not_ just jump into it? I'd rather ruin it all at once than drag it out for forever."

"Hell yeah," Janna said. "I mean, that's bleak, but also kind of rad."

"And if my parents never want to have anything to do with me again, I can go live in a castle in another dimension," Marco said.

"True." Janna smiled. "But you have pretty good parents, you know?"

"Yeah. I do."

"And besides, worst comes to worst, I'll just get you a fake ID that says you're 18. That's probably good enough for a doctor somewhere."

Marco glanced sidelong at her. "And how exactly would you manage that?"

"I have my sources!"

Marco let out a long sigh. But she was smiling. "I can do this."

"Yes," Janna said. "You can. And I'm going to help. But hey, I still want you to try the blue dress too."

"Oh. I'm not really sure that's a good idea. I don't know that—"

"Marcooooo," Janna said. "Pleaaaase?"

Marco stared at Janna for a minute before realizing her strange expression was an attempt to do puppy-dog eyes. She couldn't help but laugh a little. "Okay. I guess."

Janna hopped up, obligingly turning towards the corner again, as Marco clumsily changed, again avoiding looking at the mirror as much as she could during the process.

Marco was psyching herself up to actually face looking at herself when Janna stopped her.

"Wait," she said, and dove into the pile of clothes, eventually pulling out a hairclip with a blue flower on it. She stuck it in Marco's hair, and then stepped back, looking her up and down. "Okay, go."

When Marco turned to the mirror, she had that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach again. But then…

"Whoa," she breathed out.

There was a girl looking back from the mirror. A cute girl in a light blue dress. 

Marco didn't even have the words. She just stared at herself, while Janna grinned from behind her.

Finally, the thing that broke her out of her reverie was a thought, skating across the top of her mind.

"Mariela," she said, feeling it out.

Janna's eyebrows furrowed, but then her eyes lit up with recognition. "I like it! Wait… are you crying? Are you okay?"

She wiped at her eyes. "It's fine. Better than fine." She smiled brightly, watching her reflection do the same. "I'm Mariela Diaz, and I'm doing okay."

And she believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading this, and I sincerely hope it was in some way worthwhile to you.
> 
> \---
> 
> This is a personal note, to those whom it may concern:
> 
> **You can just _be_ a girl, if you want to. **
> 
> It doesn't even take magic. Modern science is amazing!
> 
> That's not to say that it's necessarily easy. Everyone has their own circumstances and complications. No matter what, there will be days when it's hard, and you will wind up doubting yourself and feeling awful and questioning everything. You might even change your mind entirely later on.
> 
> That's okay.
> 
> But just remember that you get to decide who you want to be, not anyone else. Choose to be the best version of yourself, whatever that means for you. You deserve to be happy.


End file.
